


the darkest fires

by arcane_illusions



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Almost Kiss, Angst, Blood and Violence, Character Death, Drama, Execution, F/M, Forbidden Love, Guns, Heartbreak, Historical Inaccuracy, Magic, Major Character Injury, Murder, Mutual Pining, Opposites Attract, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Read at Your Own Risk, Romance, Sad Ending, Salem Witch Trials!AU, Secret Identity, Swearing, Torture, Witchcraft, now for the dark tags, probably, that is a lot of dark tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:20:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29491227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcane_illusions/pseuds/arcane_illusions
Summary: He loved her blindly, but she had a secret. A secret that cost them so much more than their hearts.
Relationships: James Potter & Lily Evans Potter, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Marlene McKinnon & Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black & James Potter, Sirius Black & Marlene McKinnon, Sirius Black/Marlene McKinnon
Kudos: 6





	the darkest fires

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for graphic injuries, graphic murder, death of multiple major characters, executions, blood, guns, violence, PTSD, torture, swearing, and a lot of other things — I’ll add them in, or let me know what I’ve missed in your review!
> 
> This is a messed up fic, especially towards the end, and it does NOT have a happy ending, so read at your own risk.
> 
> ...
> 
> Originally posted 11/30/2020 on FF.net.

_Image credits do not belong to me._

* * *

There was the sound of glass shattering across the street, followed by an ear-piercing scream and muffled shouting. Lily flinched, drawing her cloak more tightly around her and lowering her head. She was supposed to be unnoticed, yet her eyes were drawn to the broken glass — with a wave of her hand, she could resolve all of this, but at the cost of her life.

That family would be burned alive for harboring a witch for so long. There would be no funeral’ in the middle of the night, someone would dump their ashes into the river. There was no life for witches here. Or anywhere.

The sounds of their screams as they were dragged out rang hauntingly in Lily’s ears and she started hurrying, eager to get away from the chaos. The less-noticed she was, the better.

* * *

_Ten-year-old Lily sprinted down the street, sobs wracking her chest. Smoke drifted into the sky, staining the clouds gray, and the acrid stench burned Lily’s nostrils. Shards of glass lay on the street and policemen were swarming around, trying to control the rioters._

_“Burn the witches!” they cried, their eyes burning with the fires they lit. “Burn them all!”_

_When they came, they lit the darkest fires, and Lily’s home lay in ashes, with her family’s prone forms buried under all of the debris._

_Nothing was left._

_So Lily ran._

* * *

Lily felt as though she was being followed, so she jogged the last mile to her apartment. She lived alone, which some would call reckless — a witch living alone in a town of witch-hunters — but she didn’t want to be responsible for an innocent’s death if someone ever discovered her secret. 

Besides, living with someone meant that the chances of her secret being revealed were doubled.

She’d never been caught or directly accused of being a witch — her family’s deaths had been the only time someone (or some people) had come close to catching her, and Lily believed they weren’t quite finished with her yet — she was just good at evading and hiding. Her glamour was impeccable and she’d perfected the whole “normal civilian” charade. 

The sounds of shrieking gradually died and she rounded the corner, eying the steps that led up to her apartment building, but she saw someone sitting there. The uniform, the hat, the polished boots, and the insignia — her blood ran cold and she clenched her fists.

_Potter. The sheriff._

She shouldn’t be worried. Her glamour was up and he was probably just here to interrogate her again. She was a skilled liar. She could do this.

His head snapped up as she approached, her boots clicking against the sidewalk, and she could’ve imagined his face lighting up when he saw her. Potter was a very, very good actor, just like her, and he knew how to charm any woman with his smooth words and easy grace.

Lily loathed him. Partly because he was so arrogant, partly because his arrogance was justified — he was the best policeman around here, he was clever, and he was unfairly pretty.

“Lily!” he said cheerfully, peering at her through his glasses. He patted the seat next to him. “Come, join me. I have a few questions to ask you.”

Lily bit back a refusal; she couldn’t do anything that made him even remotely suspicious, so she was forced to subject to his prying questions.

“Shouldn’t the sheriff have business elsewhere on a night like this?” she said, gesturing to the empty street. “Surely you should be on the main street, defusing the violence? The rioters are becoming bolder by the day.”

“My force will handle it,” said James with a dismissive wave. “They are fully equipped and I have faith in them to take care of it.” Lily frowned; those weren’t the words of accomplished sheriffs — he was behaving as if the situation didn’t concern him.

“Are you sure?”

James pursed his lips. “Do you have such little trust in me?”

“No, no,” she hastened to reply, “it’s not that. It’s just that I feel unsafe walking on the main street. Perhaps you should increase security, especially at night.” She glanced around pointedly.

“Don’t worry,” James said calmly, mistaking her pointedness for nervousness.“No one’s going to hurt you, not while I’m around. No one would dare cross an authority figure like me. Besides, you’re not a witch.”

Lily was inclined to argue, but she kept her mouth shut.

“I suppose you came to interrogate me?” she asked airily.

“Yes. I went around your building, and you were the only one who wasn’t home.” He leaned in. “Rather suspicious.” He patted the ground next to him again and Lily reluctantly sat, making sure to stay as far away as she could from him. One touch from him, and she might accidentally drop her glamour.

Magic was fragile like that, sometimes.

“I came to ask about the incident that occurred last week, in which a boiler exploded.”

Lily bit her lip. She’d been experimenting with a bit of magic, lost her patience, and accidentally blown up one of the two boilers in the building. It had been a little frightening to see how far her magic could reach.

“We have reason to believe magic was involved.”

Obviously. No one in their right mind would blow up a boiler without magic.

“You wouldn’t have happened to see anything, would you?”

Lily swallowed an irritated sigh. “I live on the sixth floor, Sheriff,” she said politely. “How could I have seen anything?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you saw a neighbor acting suspiciously or heard someone go downstairs.”

She considered framing one of her neighbors, just so that Potter would leave, but she couldn’t do that. “No. I heard nothing, saw nothing.” She narrowed her eyes. “Are you going to ask how I felt? If I tasted or smelled anything? Might as well cover all five senses.”

Potter coughed. “You have an awfully smart mouth,” he observed keenly. “Be careful. That may arouse some trouble. Unlike common belief, I don’t have time to rescue pretty damsels who intentionally get themselves in trouble.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “I appreciate the compliment, but that would imply that you’re discriminatory. That’s extremely unbecoming of a sheriff.” She rose to her feet and Potter watched her unabashedly, his hazel eyes boring into the side of her head. “If you’ll excuse me, I mean to retire to bed and will not be kept awake by nosy policemen. Good night.”

She started up the steps, only for Potter to grab a fistful of her skirt. Cursing in her head, she tried to rip free of him, but his grip only tightened. Fearing a tear in the fabric and exposing her leg, she stopped resisting.

“I’m not finished,” he said. “I still have one more question.”

“Ask it quickly, then. I’m weary.”

“Fine.” He stood up, releasing her skirt, and gazed earnestly into her eyes. “Lily Evans, will you join me on a stroll tomorrow? Or perhaps on a moonlit walk on the pier?”

She squinted at him. “That’s two questions,” she said, her heart racing.

“Answer one of them,” he said through a broad, winning smile.

“I’ll answer them both. No.” She turned away. “My answer is and always has been no.”

“‘No’? May I ask why?”

Lily wanted to answer _because you’re hunting my kind,_ but once again, she had to seal her lips. “I don’t see you in that way,” she responded simply. “You may woo other girls with your charm and wit, but I don’t want it. You would be better off accompanying another girl to the pier _. Good night_.”

Potter didn’t try to stop her this time as she marched up the remaining steps and entered the building.

* * *

Lily didn’t see the sheriff again for a few days, which was fine with her. The more he hung around her, the more attention they attracted because the sheriff’s relationship status was the talk of the town. They would think he was courting her and that was the last thing she wanted.

Well, the second-to-last thing. 

However, her luck didn’t hold out, and she bumped into him the Saturday before the annual feast. He was conversing with a pretty young woman, who giggled and fluttered her eyelashes. Judging from her expression, she was unabashedly flirting with him. Lily snorted. She might as well be talking about paint drying for all the attention he was giving her. His eyes darted around the square and when they settled on her, they lit up. Lily ducked her head, trying to lose herself in the crowd.

She tried not to look over her shoulder to see if he was following her but the sound of his footfalls and the way the crowd immediately cleared a path for him declared the answer.

“Evans,” he said huskily, and Lily wouldn’t ever admit to her pulse spiking at the sound of his voice. “What brings you here?”

Lily wet her lips, caught off guard by the sunlight glinting on his glasses. She seldom saw him in broad daylight, where anyone could see them, and the daylight flattered him more than she cared to admit.

“Personal business,” she responded evasively. “And I believe you are here to secure a companion for the feast?”

“Jealous?” he prodded. When she rolled her eyes, he continued, “You have nothing to worry about. You know I only wish to be by your side.”

“You are persistent, I’ll give you that.” She increased her pace, irritated when he only had to lengthen his stride to keep up with her. Damn his long legs. “But I believe I have made myself very clear about that matter.”

“A man can hope, can he not?”

“Sheriff Potter!” someone called just as Lily was opening her mouth to retort. She swallowed the retort back, infinitely grateful to whoever had just interrupted them.

It was Deputy Black and his eyes traveled to her, appraising her thoughtfully, and Lily flushed. She hated being scrutinized. “Do you mind?” she asked boldly, eliciting a few gasps from the passerby.

Black only chuckled. “I like her spirit,” he said to Potter, who smiled. He had a nice smile when it was a smile of pleasure — not laced with arrogance. 

“She has a sharp tongue,” Potter agreed. “It’s one of the reasons why I like her so much.” He turned those devastatingly gorgeous eyes on her and Lily’s knees went weak. She recovered smoothly but his words lingered in her mind. _It’s one of the reasons why I like her so much._

They were drawing a lot of attention to them. Potter and Black wore an air of authority, which pulled people toward them, and that was normal for them. Lily, however, had been living in the shadows all of her life, and she preferred it that way. She’d been doing fine until Potter showed up and meddled with her affairs.

One thing was for sure, she was uncomfortable with the prying eyes and the invisible whispers, and she edged closer to Potter and Black as if they could shield her. Potter noticed her discomfort right away and seized her upper arm. His fingers flexed as he steered her away from the stares. Eyes tracked them, but she only felt the weight of them vanished when they rounded the corner.

“Are you okay?” Potter asked her, lips pursed and a crease between his eyebrows as he studied her with apparent concern. “I know you’re not used to the attention. I’m sorry I put you in that spot.”

“I’m fine,” she said, reluctant to shake off his hand. She did so anyway, immediately missing the comforting touch of his skin. “You’re a public figure and I —” She broke off.

“Still, my deepest apologies,” he said sincerely. He hesitated. “I’m also sorry if my…propositions made you uncomfortable. You have my word that I won’t do it again.”

Lily accepted his vow with a gracious smile. “You’re forgiven, Sheriff,” she said. Picking up her skirts, she added, “Thank you for escorting me. I can see myself home from here.”

She sensed an argument on Potter’s lips before he remembered the promise he’d made. “Stay safe,” he said instead. Lily merely smiled. 

“Thank you.”

* * *

In hindsight, she shouldn’t have walked home alone. She should’ve taken up Potter’s offer to walk her home — even though he hadn’t explicitly asked her, he’d been about to. Even though the sun streamed through the clouds, illuminating the street, her apartment building was in the back of an alley, and there was no watchman on duty during the day. It was convenient for someone in hiding, she could blend into the darkness, but it was awfully…

Lily couldn’t put a word to the shiver crawling up her spine. Unease? She could’ve lit a fire in her hand, but she could be easily spotted from one of the windows — if a neighbor saw her conjuring fire…

Lily clenched her fists as she heard footsteps behind her. Unfamiliar footsteps. Not the light, cat-like steps of Potter, but heavy ones. She heard ragged breathing, and the footsteps were uneven.

She spun, her cloak flaring out, and swung her arm, but it met air. She heard a _thump._ Whoever it was had collapsed a few feet behind her. The rusty, metallic scent of blood permeated the air. Whoever it was, they were injured.

Lily took a few cautious steps forward and dared to call out, “Who’s there?”

Her words were met by silence. Then the person groaned. “ _Help…_ ” Gravelly. Raspy. Agonized.

Lily couldn’t see a damn thing from afar, so she risked stepping ahead and squinting. She inhaled sharply as she glimpsed the dark blood lapping at her shoes. The stench of blood and...infected flesh?...was stronger and it almost made her retch. Only her overwhelming need to help them kept her nausea at bay.

“Where are you hurt?” she asked. When there was no response, she reached out and tentatively probed with her fingers, wincing as her fingers ran over scabs and badly-healed wounds, and then — 

The person rolled over and Lily stifled a gasp. A long, fresh laceration on their back, stretching from their neck to the middle of their back and oozing blood. There were several smaller scratches that seemed to be festering. And as her fingers crawled up to his left shoulder, she noticed it was dislocated.

_Oh, Circe…_

Her fingers delved into short hair. A man, or a woman who’d shorn off her hair for a disguise. Lily’s stomach churned. _Could this person be like me?_

It didn’t matter now. This person was hurt and they needed urgent medical attention. Her fingers traveled to their neck to check their pulse. Her heart jolted as she realized it was weak, fluttering under their skin. Their skin was ice.

She glanced at her bloody hands, and then at the apartment building behind her. She would need to be creative.

* * *

Lily did what she could for her guest — a woman who had cut her hair, just as Lily had suspected — by healing her as much as possible. The _regular_ way. Magic left behind a scent, and she didn’t want there to be a scent when she could finally leave her patient long enough to fetch a healer.

Besides, while her magic was powerful, it could only get the job halfway done, and she’d need the regular healing anyway. Her magic did not expand to severe cases like this — she could erase bruises, blemishes, and small wounds, but nothing at this scale.

On the fourth day of healing, her patient opened her eyes. 

Lily was dozing against the chair, having not left her patient for the last three days, and she was startled awake by a low, long moan and the rustling of sheets as she tried to sit up.

“No!” cried Lily and lunged for her. The woman looked at her with terror, but it vanished as Lily gently guided her up in a way that wouldn’t reopen her injuries. 

“Are you okay?” was the next thing out of Lily’s mouth.

“Yes and no.” She gazed at Lily, hazy confusion in her eyes. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Lily said. “I found you outside and you looked…” She hesitated. “You were in really bad shape,” she finished. “You’re lucky I found you when I did, or otherwise…”

“...I’d be dead,” she said wearily. “I know. You don’t have to sugarcoat the truth. I was just nearly sliced in half, for Circe’s sake.”

Lily almost laughed, but it hitched in her throat as she turned over the words in her mind. She frowned. “Did you just say _‘Circe’_?”

She saw the woman blanch; what little color she had in her cheeks drained. “Oh, _shit,_ ” she swore. “I —I —” She seemed to be at a loss for words, so Lily took pity on her.

“It’s okay,” she said, resting a hand on her (unhurt) shoulder and gazing at her seriously. “I need you to be honest with me, though. Are you a witch?”

A sharp intake of breath. “I have no idea what you’re talking about — I just picked up that word somewhere —”

Lily almost rolled her eyes. This woman was a terrible liar; she was fortunate she hadn’t been burned at the stake yet. She waited until the woman had run out of steam, and _then_ she spoke, with utter calmness — 

“It’s okay. I’m one too.”

She was taking a leap of faith — this woman could truly not be a witch, and she had just outed herself to someone — but the woman’s defensiveness, along with her poor excuses, had Lily certain that she hadn’t made a mistake.

Her gamble paid off when the woman seemed to brighten up. Her cheeks flooded with her and her eyes were glowing faintly, as a witch’s did when they were using magic. 

“You’re —” The shock couldn’t be good for her but her excitement forced Lily to reconsider. It was...dare she say it... _infectious._

“What’s your name?” the woman asked enthusiastically. “We could’ve been raised in the same —”

“No,” Lily said, shaking her head. “I grew up here.”

“Here? In this town of witch-hunters?”

“My parents were very skilled at covering our tracks...for a while. No one knew.” Well someone did, but Lily wasn’t inclined to tell this stranger. “We were able to mask our magic well.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed. “‘Were?’”

Perceptive. Lily would have to watch her words. “They passed on,” she said quickly. Technically, that wasn’t a lie. Hoping to smooth over the awkward moment, she said, “I’m Lily. What’s your name?”

“Marlene.”

* * *

Marlene adamantly refused to be treated by anyone other than Lily — it was like her trust in Lily had only increased, which made Lily feel worse when she snuck out and went straight to the local healer.

Upon hearing about the extent of Marlene’s injuries, the healer was quick to leave his post and rush to her aid. Remus was very sensitive, kind, and had a reassuring presence. Lily had plenty of faith in his abilities. 

It was earning Marlene’s trust that was the hurdle. Lily was able to persuade her to let him heal her, but under the condition that he could not touch her inappropriately. Lily was also to remain in the room as a precaution. Remus agreed to these terms hastily; Lily sensed he just wanted to take a look at Marlene’s wounds.

After that visit, Remus came by the next day to give Lily the appropriate salve and medical equipment, like bandages and tissues. He taught her how to apply the salve and entrusted her Marlene’s care and commended her for dealing with the situation as calmly as she did.

“Good instincts,” he praised her. “Are you sure you don’t want to be my apprentice?”

Lily laughed awkwardly. “That’s very sweet of you to say, thank you, but I don’t think my talents lie in healing.”

“Well, that’s a shame.” Remus winked. “The pay is _excellent._ ”

The money sounded tempting but Lily hadn’t even dipped into her parents’ savings yet — which was _plenty_ of cushioning. “You can’t win me over that easily.”

“Shame,” he repeated, smiling warmly, and walked past her and out the door.

Marlene’s recovery was a slow, gradual process, and what frustrated Lily was that Marlene wouldn’t tell her _how_ she’d received her injuries. She was cryptic when Lily pressed her, murmuring something about _danger_ and _teeth,_ but that hardly shed light on the situation. She couldn’t be vaguer if she tried.

Lily considered using magic to coax the answer out of her but the idea was dismissed right away. It was immoral and a violation of privacy.

One morning, she was in the kitchen assembling breakfast when she heard a knock on her door. Soft enough not to rouse Marlene, who was sound asleep in another room, but it echoed loudly in Lily’s head. It couldn’t be Remus, he never came this early.

Who else would be visiting at this hour? 

Lily eyed the knives on the cutting board before she shook her head at herself and marched out of the kitchen, down the hall, and stood on her tiptoes to peer through the peephole.

Just as the door opened and she lost her balance, flailing wildly, an undignified yelp escaping her mouth — the floor was rising to catch her — 

“Woah!” 

She recognized, fuzzily, the baritone and the smooth voice, accentuated with surprise. Long black coat, gold buttons, and it was made of soft fabric that smelled like — cologne? Arms secured themselves around her, effectively stopping her forward progress.

Pleasant warmth spread from her head to her toes. She knew the cologne.

“Sheriff Potter,” she mumbled, content to be supported by his arms around her waist, not worried about the consequences. She was also thankful she wasn’t in a nightgown.

“Lily.” His voice. Warm, with a hint of befuddlement. “Are you okay?”

This was her guilty pleasure. She didn’t know what had overcome her — perhaps the stress from the past few days, and relief from seeing a familiar face.

He was asking her something. Surfacing from her stupor, she struggled to find words. “I — I’m fine,” she murmured, gazing up at him through her eyelashes. “Thanks for catching me.”

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and she could tell from his expression that he too sensed the intimacy of their position. However, he made no move to let her go, and she made no move to make him.

No. No. This was wrong. Several different kinds of wrong. If he knew he was holding a witch — 

The revelation was like a bucket of ice being poured onto her and she stumbled back, forcing him to release her. He ran a hand through his perpetually messy hair as she straightened her clothes, both self-conscious in the wake of their shared moment and, perhaps, the invitation of something more.

Now she was composed, she was able to appreciate — er, look at what he was wearing. The black coat with the gold buttons, of course, but her eyes dragged down to his breeches and his polished black boots. He was undeniably handsome. This didn’t help her barely-leashed self-control, and her grip loosened as he caught her staring. Surprisingly, he said nothing, though she glimpsed a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Her mood soured.

“Sheriff Potter,” she said again curtly, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on his face and refusing to let them wander. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I heard about your...patient,” he said. Lily tensed.

“And?”

“I wanted to come and check on her.” His eyes tentatively met hers. “Will you let me see her?”

The rawness in his eyes caught her off guard and she felt surprised — and what surprised her, even more, was that it was followed by jealousy. Why was he taking such an interest in Marlene? Why did he speak about her tenderly?

Some of her jealousy must’ve seeped through her guards and showed on her face because Potter sighed, his hand jerking upward before settling again. He’d wanted to touch her, but he wanted to honor his vow to her — a vow she was beginning to regret because it left her feeling empty and touch-starved. He was holding himself back and Lily wanted to see what he was like unleashed — but thanks to her birthright, she would never get a chance.

At least she’d gotten a taste a few moments ago when they’d forgotten about everything and simply clung to each other.

Lily’s jealousy melted like frost on a spring morning. She was being unreasonable. He had every right to see her. “Sure,” she said and edged to one side to let him pass. The doorway was narrowing, meaning he had to brush past her, and Lily nearly jumped out of her skin. 

She was going to fall for him at this rate.

“How did you get in?” she asked, loitering in the doorway as his eyes roved over her living room. She prayed she hadn’t left anything incriminating out.

“The watchman is a very kind man,” he replied and Lily nodded empathetically. “He let me right up and even gave me a key to your apartment.”

“Why did you knock, then?”

“Politeness.” The _obviously_ went unsaid.

“Oh.” She wanted to say thank you but bit her tongue. She didn’t want to feel like she owed him anything.

Potter gestured awkwardly to the hallway, looking unusually solemn. “Well, shall we?”

“Oh, right.” Lily led the way down the hallway, aware of him on her heels, and her senses were buzzing. She stopped in front of Marlene’s door. “She’s probably asleep,” she whispered to Potter. “I’ll go first. She doesn’t take kindly to intruders.”

“I’m hardly intruding,” he muttered but heeded her advice, shuffling away from the door, which gave Lily some room to breathe. She quietly pushed open the door and poked her head inside.

“Marlene?”

“I’m awake, and I know Potter’s here,” Marlene said, her voice muffled by the pillow. “Tell him to leave.”

“Don’t be rude,” Lily said cajolingly. “He came here to check on you.”

“The deputy was asking after her,” Potter called from outside. “Deputy Black. He’s...well-acquainted with you if I remember correctly.”

That gave Marlene pause and she turned her head so her mouth was free. “Deputy...Black?”

Potter appeared in the doorway, his lips twitching with barely suppressed mirth. “Yes, he was...very concerned about you. He would’ve come himself, but he had to go take care of something else.” He caught Lily’s eyes and winked inconspicuously.

Lily had the feeling that something else was going on entirely, but she couldn’t place her finger. Marlene...Deputy Black...Marlene’s obvious interest…

Had she been involved with Deputy Black before?

“I came in his stead, though he _dearly_ wishes he could be here to provide you with, ah, _comfort._ ”

Yes, judging from the innuendo in the sheriff’s words and the amusement in his voice. He was pushing Marlene toward some kind of confession, that she cared about the deputy.

“Well, tell him he’s not welcome,” Marlene muttered, but there was an edge to her voice that betrayed her hostility.

“I’ll tell him that, though I was under the impression that he wanted to, er, redeem himself? He talks about you an awful lot for a woman he encountered some time ago.”

Marlene hoisted herself up, grimacing and Lily helped her with gentle hands. Lily’s patient glared at the smirking sheriff. “Then tell him to stop being a pansy-ass and visit me himself.”

Triumph blossomed on Potter’s face. “Noted,” he murmured, his lips stretching into that smile that had enraptured Lily just a few days ago. Circe, no wonder his love life was the subject of women’s idle gossip with him looking like that.

They could have him, then.

“I think you should get some rest now,” Lily said, trying to withhold a smile. “After all, you must look...presentable when Deputy Black comes calling.”

Marlene rolled her eyes skyward, but she did not protest and fell back under the covers. Lily exchanged a smile with Potter — his smile had become soft, affectionate as he watched her tuck Marlene in.

“Potter,” she said quietly after she had closed the door, leaving Marlene to rest, “do you truly intend to tell the deputy to call on her?”

“Of course,” he said, looking mildly confused. “Couldn’t you tell that she’s besotted with him? Who am I to stand in the way of true love?”

His tone was light, but the question was loaded, and its complexity ensnared her. She fumbled, lost for words, but Potter saved her. He cleared his throat.

“Well, I’d better be off,” he said, breaking the brief, impenetrable silence. Nodding at her, he started down the hallway but halted when Lily’s hand shot out and seized his shoulder.

Neither of them spoke. Lily was aware of her pounding heart. “Thanks for coming to check on her,” she said hollowly.

His hand jumped to his hair, and without turning, he said, “She wasn’t the only one I wanted to see.”

Lily’s breath hitched in her throat and she found it difficult to speak. “Oh?”

“Have a good day, Lily. Evans.” He took a few steps, stopped again, and asked, “You didn’t find out anything about the exploding boiler, did you?”

Now Lily’s heart was rapidly beating for other reasons. “No,” she croaked, her mouth dry. “Nothing.”

“I’d hoped —” Potter shook his head. “Never mind. I’ll see you around, Evans.”

_Evans. Since when was she Evans?_

“Lily,” she said. “It’s Lily. You’ve always called me that anyway.” _So why stop now?_

He glanced over her shoulder, and she thought she saw a thin smile on his face. “Lily. And...you can call me James. Only if you want to.”

“I want to.” Lily surprised even herself — it seemed as if she was constantly surprising herself today. “James.” The name was foreign to her tongue but she figured she could get accustomed to it. 

One syllable. Four letters. A world of meaning.

* * *

Deputy Black didn’t stop by until a few days later, and when he came, he came without a warning in advance, so there was a lot of _last-minute_ preparation as he waited outside the door — namely, wrestling Marlene into suitable clothing, which was slightly big on her because the orange dress was Lily’s, and it was the only thing that looked good on her. It was long, flowy, loose, and didn’t cling to Marlene’s newly-healed wounds, so she was not in any discomfort. The grimace on her face was because of their guest.

But when Lily opened the door, exclaiming, “My apologies for keeping you waiting!”, Marlene’s body language transformed entirely. Deputy Black’s grey eyes fell on her, and his face changed too. It was like they both had lit up from the inside like a lantern.

Reading the room, Lily guessed this wasn’t a conversation meant for her ears, and retreated to the kitchen. She thought she ought to whip up something for their guest — it was only proper.

She was reaching for the cupboard when she heard a shout from the living room. _“How dare you!”_ Marlene’s voice.

Lily froze and then shook herself. Hurrying to the living room, she was about to enter when she heard Black say, “Are you sure you’re happy here?”

Lily paused, waiting with bated breath for Marlene’s response. She didn’t have to wait long.

“Of course I am!” Marlene’s voice trembled with emotion. “Lily has been nothing but kind to me. She has treated my wounds, fed me, clothed me, and sheltered me. There’s nothing more I could ask of her. I owe her my life.”

Lily felt warmth spread through her body and she smiled. _I would do it again in a heartbeat._

“Of course, I didn’t mean to offend,” Black said hastily. “Lily is a lovely person. I can see why James likes her so much.”

There it was again. _James likes her so much. I like her so much._ Did he truly feel that way? He’d been very clear and straightforward with his feelings, but she’d assumed it was just an infatuation. Maybe because he thought she was pretty, or maybe he thought of himself as a ladies’ man and could get any woman he wanted.

But the way Deputy Black said it, it seemed almost though...he really, truly liked her.

It didn’t matter, though. She was lying to him — hiding something very important, very dangerous, something that could — would — make him disgusted by her. Lily stared blankly at her hands, her mind churning. No. She could not be thrilled by the fact that James liked her because it was very, very wrong.

Falling for James would kill her.

* * *

Marlene refused to speak of the conversation between her and the deputy, and Lily didn’t force the issue, because that meant Marlene would repeat what he had said: _I can see why James likes her so much._ Or perhaps she would omit it for Lily’s sake. Either way, she didn’t want to ask.

Neither James nor the deputy dropped by, which was also fine with Lily. Both her and Marlene were on edge, not just from complicated feelings, but from the rise in witch burnings in the town. Just yesterday, a witch had been discovered in their apartment building, two floors below, and she was believed to be responsible for the boiler explosion. Her screams as she’d been dragged out of the building were heart-wrenchingly agonizing. Lily had curled up in her bed and cried herself to sleep. In the next room, she thought she heard Marlene’s sobs.

They didn’t attend the burning. Out of fear, Lily didn’t venture out of her apartment. 

They made it a week before the cupboards were bare and the soap had been reduced to the size of a lint ball.

Marlene insisted on coming with her — she was strong enough to, and she argued that it was better if they were together. It was safer that way.

Lily didn’t try to reason with her, mostly because her friend’s reasoning was sound. She didn’t desire to leave her behind either, just in case the witch hunters broke in. 

Without incident, they went to the marketplace and returned laden with supplies, unscathed. The town had been on low alert since the recent burning, assured that they had weeded out all of the witches, and paid no attention to the two witches in their midst.

“Thank Morgana Potter and Black weren’t lurking around,” Marlene muttered as they entered the apartment and Lily barricaded the door. She’d been taking more precautions, despite the town’s lull. One could never be too careful.

“I saw them,” Lily said bitterly. “Remember when I pushed you behind that horse? Pot-James saw me. Us.”

“Potter saw us?” Marlene swore. “I hope he doesn’t take that as an invitation to stop by.”

“Hopefully,” Lily agreed. “What do you want to have for supper? We have options now.”

“I don’t know, but I do feel like having wine…”

* * *

They were drunk. Drunker than they were supposed to be (by society’s standards), but it was an efficient way to relieve the stress. It was just them and the bottle of red wine, babbling nonsensically. Sprawled out on the floor, Lily’s lips loosened with the flow of alcohol and she finally broached the subject of her feelings for James. 

Sort of.

“He’s sooo handsome,” she slurred, her tongue thick and heavy. She was warm and fuzzy all over. “I wonder what he’s like — _hic_ — naked.”

Marlene giggled. “I bet he’s — _hic_ — fit.”

Lily glanced at her friend quizzically. “Fit? Are you a bloody Brit?”

Marlene stared at her hazily, and they both burst into raucous laughter. Lily raised her hand lazily and the bottle of wine flew into her hand.

“Another?” she asked, unsteadily lifting her wine glass into the air.

“You bet your sweet arse,” Marlene rasped, Lily snickered, and it was another minute before they surfaced for air.

Now that she was sober, Lily regretted everything.

Firstly, there was the persistent, pulsing ache in her skull. It was not like she could whip up a hangover cure because one, she didn’t want to keep anything even remotely witchy in her apartment, and second, she was becoming accustomed to the human lifestyle — which, unfortunately, did not have a remedy for a hangover.

Second, the first thing greeting her when she woke was the unmistakable scent of magic. Tangy, sweet-smelling, and the source of Lily’s panic, it lingered in the air. Anyone who walked in would smell it immediately.

What in the name of Morgana had happened last night?

“No, no, this is not happening,” Lily hissed, pinching the bridge of her nose and closing her eyes. “We did not use magic, we did not use magic —”

Her eyes opened as she remembered Marlene. Marlene was absent, her previously-occupied spot next to Lily empty and cold. Lily’s joints cracked as she stiffly sat up and covered her eyes in a weak attempt to shield her eyes from the bright sunlight.

“...Ugh,” she moaned. She didn’t feel like moving at all, but concern for Marlene gripped her muscles and forced her to her feet. She shuffled awkwardly into the hallway and pushed open Marlene’s door. No sign of her.

Then she heard a _crash_ from the kitchen, followed by Marlene’s vehement swears, and everything fell into place. A smile tugged at Lily’s mouth. At least something was ordinary.

She staggered into the kitchen and fell into a chair across from Marlene, who was slumped over on the table. Broken shards of glass lay next to her, presumably a glass.

When Lily let out another moan, Marlene lifted her head. “Magic,” she croaked. “We used magic.”

“We did.” Lily drummed her fingers on the table and sighed. “We’ll need to open the windows and pray that no one else opens their windows or comes here unannounced.”

Marlene grunted her agreement.

* * *

After that… _incident,_ Lily gathered all of the bottles of wine and unceremoniously shoved them in the back of a cupboard. She would never be that reckless again.

* * *

Lily dared to leave the apartment again to fetch Remus — she was concerned about Marlene, who’d contracted a fever the night before. One of her (previously infected) wounds had been reopened when she’d accidentally hit her knee on a table leg. The wound on her knee was small and had been treated promptly, but had somehow gotten infected again. Now Marlene lay ill on her bed in a pool of sweat, delirious and murmuring about teeth.

Lily vaguely recalled her saying something about teeth before; it insistently remained in her head, and she ruminated on it while hurrying to the healer’s post.

Remus took one look at Lily’s face and said nothing. Gathering up his supplies, he practically sprinted down the street and Lily fought for breath as she tried to catch him. She was so focused on Remus’s back that when she rounded the corner, she skidded headlong into James.

James’s strong hands landed on her shoulders and he steadied her. “Woah, what’s the rush? We always seem to run into each other like this.”

This was only the second time, but she didn’t mention it.

She swallowed several times before she could answer. “Marlene...ill,” she panted, not quite ready to wrench herself out of his grasp. “I fetched the healer and he went on ahead.”

She noticed that Potter was alone and not flanked by his entourage. Good. She didn’t want to speak to Potter, much less Black, because Black would ask about Marlene. She wasn’t prepared to field his questions, and she was especially wary of policemen nowadays.

James searched her face for...what, she didn’t know, and let her go without saying anything. Something like regret pooled in Lily but she didn’t have time to act on it. Remus had probably reached the apartment building.

_It’s for the best,_ she thought, and didn’t look back.

* * *

“Marlene?” Lily tentatively brushed a hand against her forehead. Remus had left but not without giving explicit instructions to Lily on how to care for Marlene. Marlene’s skin blazed against her own, so Lily stood up, exited the room, and went to the kitchen. 

She’d torn up the skirt of an old dress into strips and now she dipped it into the bucket of lukewarm water. Cold water would've been preferable, but Lily didn’t exactly have it on hand.

She reentered Marlene’s room and gently laid the damp cloth on her head, dabbing her moist temple. Marlene stirred and moaned faintly, her face relaxing ever so slightly. Lily continued this rhythmic motion while her thoughts wandered elsewhere.

Elsewhere, meaning it strayed to James. Always to James.

She really needed to stop thinking about him and needed to stop _feeling_ for him. This strange, vulnerable feeling she had — it could be her undoing, and she could be burned for it. Lily hated liars but hated even more that she was one.

Lily bit her lip and jumped when Marlene abruptly muttered something about _hounds._ Hounds.

Wait, hounds?

Lily’s stomach swooped unpleasantly as some of the picture became clear — the cause of Marlene’s injuries. Marlene muttering about _dangerous, teeth, and hounds_ — the scars on her back that looked like teeth and claw marks — the smaller scratches, which could’ve been caused by a bad fall — 

Lily almost recoiled from her as one gut-wrenching revelation dawned on her.

Marlene had been chased by hounds. _Bloodhounds._ Bloodhounds that could outrun the wind, and somehow Marlene had escaped.

In spite of the chill it brought her, Lily felt her respect for her increase upon learning about her bravery. It took an incredible amount of skill to evade and escape the bloodhounds...Marlene had stronger powers and stronger endurance than she let on. If unleashed, she could be a powerful ally.

She gazed at Marlene fondly. Marlene...Marlene was someone who was a lifelong friend. Someone who had your back, who was fiercely loyal. Lily had only known her for a short time but it felt like they had been friends forever. Perhaps even sisters.

Lily had had a sister once, but she was gone, her ashes buried somewhere in the town, along with their parents. She spared herself a brief moment of grief before turning back to Marlene.

She could not dwell on the past or any feelings she may or may not have — it was treacherous and unwise.

* * *

Marlene’s fever broke late in the night while Lily was asleep on the floor, stretched out on a blanket and borrowing one of Marlene’s many pillows (they were Lily’s anyway). She hadn’t wanted to leave Marlene alone.

Lily woke to the creak of Marlene’s bed. As the sleep-induced haze cleared from her mind, she realized Marlene was sitting up and her eyes weren’t glassy. Her face was still flushed, but her general appearance had improved overnight.

She sat up, her eyes roving over Marlene’s form. “How are you feeling?”

“Like hell,” Marlene snapped and then sighed. “I’m sorry, I just...really hate that I’ve been so weak lately. All I’ve been is a liability.” She gazed at Lily earnestly. “I’ll make it up to you soon, I promise. Just as soon as my body stops fighting me…” She rolled her eyes, giving her stomach a reproachful glare.

A wave of nervousness rolled over Lily; she needed to talk to Marlene about the truth behind her injuries. Marlene was still under the impression that Lily didn’t know.

“Marlene…” Lily whispered. “I know.”

“Know what?” Marlene was curious. Lily gulped.

“I know about how you got your wounds. The bloodhounds...you were fleeing from the bloodhounds, weren’t you? The witch-hunters were chasing you.”

Shock transformed Marlene’s face; her mouth parted and Lily grimly noted that all the color had drained from her face. Perhaps revealing this to her now was a case of _terrible timing._ Marlene had just recovered from a bout of the flu; she was still debilitated and bedridden.

Marlene _wasn’t_ weak, though, she was the strongest person Lily knew, and nothing was worse than nearly being shredded by hungry bloodhounds.

(Not that she was speaking from prior experience.)

“I...yes, the bloodhounds…” Marlene lowered her head defeatedly, a troubled expression replacing the shocked one. She took a deep breath and met Lily’s eyes head-on. “Let me tell you the whole story.”

_“She’s a witch!” the little boy howled, pointing at her._

* * *

“No, start before that. Before they found out you were a witch. I want to know the backstory.”

* * *

_Marlene sat down on the steps of her townhouse, watching the townspeople bustle around with idle interest. A woman examining a variety of fabrics from the wealthiest vendor in town. A portly man watching his daughter play with a doll. Three ladies standing in the middle of the mostly-empty square, gossiping about an upcoming nuptial. Nothing that caught her attention — until she heard a piercing scream._

_Her head whipped around, alarm causing every muscle in her body to tense, and then to relax as her eyes assessed the situation. Boy, holding the girl’s doll above her head, out of her reach, and her father had vanished into the home. Marlene waited a few seconds, but he did not reemerge, and the boy continued to torment the girl._

_“Give it back!” The girl’s cries grew increasingly shrill and Marlene tried to block out the sound by covering her ears. Circe, why hadn’t someone dealt with the boy already? He was a nuisance and disturbing the peace. Surely that warranted discipline?_

_Finally, Marlene stood up. If no one else was going to stand up for the girl, then she would. And she’d do it in such a way that that boy would learn his lesson._

_Surely no one would notice a bit of magic?_

_No. That wasn’t the answer. She was trying to blend in, not stand out. The regular way would be fine._

_She rose to her feet and started to walk to the arguing pair when she heard a high-pitched whine from the boy. “You’re a witch! You don’t deserve this doll!”_

_Marlene stopped dead. Blood roared in her ears. All around the square, she was vaguely aware of heads turning, but no one moved. No one stopped their conversations, no one pointed fingers or lunged at the girl. It was a mere taunt, a baseless taunt, loaded with meaning, but no one cared._

_Marlene clenched her fists. She couldn’t be riled up by this boy — but this boy had made an accusation so lightly, not knowing what it meant — not knowing the history — anger surged in her chest —_

_And next thing she knew, something exploded, and screams erupted all throughout the square, and more people appeared, carrying pitchforks and gleaming knives, and their hateful eyes intent on Marlene._

_She saw the boy, cowering against a wall, and as soon their eyes met, he howled “She’s a witch!” There was the pointed finger. There were calls for death._

_Marlene fled._

_It was no use, though. The witch hunters would be alerted, they would be on her tail in minutes, and nobody could escape from the bloodhounds. They were bred and born with the sole purpose of catching witches. They were a witch hunter’s deadliest weapon. Their claws could tear through anything, including flesh and bone._

_Marlene didn’t stand a chance._

“I ran out of breath and stopped for a bit to take a break,” Marlene said, eyes shut as painful memories surfaced. “That was my mistake. I should’ve known they would catch up to me eventually, they’re the fastest beasts in the country —”

_Marlene saw red as one dog leaped. Excruciating pain as sharp teeth ripped through her skin. She gasped and stumbled and they were on her, their hot breaths on her heels._

* * *

“I don’t know how I kept going,” she admitted. “But I saw the lights of this town, and I thought — I just have to make it there. They’ll call off the dogs then because they can’t risk harming anyone innocent.”

“But they know you’re here,” Lily said slowly. “They know you’re hiding in this town, it’s just a matter of finding out where you are.” Her voice trembled. “Morgana, we’ve been out in broad daylight, undisguised, they could’ve seen us —”

“It was foolish, I know,” Marlene said, opening her eyes. “I was lucky I wasn’t caught — I was banking on being hidden by the crowd., in case any of them were lurking.”

“Why haven’t the witch hunters informed the policemen here, then?” Lily queried. “Surely they will need the help of the authority figures.”

“They won’t be believed,” Marlene said. “The town believes that I was injured gravely, but no one knows why. Potter and his group are well-respected for a reason, and I believe it’s because they are fair. The witch hunters are very hot headed. They are prone to making baseless accusations. Even though it takes little evidence to point fingers and accuse someone of being a witch, no one has put two and two together yet. You are the only person who has seen my wounds and uncovered the truth. It just so happened that you were also a witch and we both had something to lose if you reported me.”

Lily bit her lip. “True,” she agreed. “But we still have to be very careful outside — the witch hunters may be in disguises too and waiting for the first chance to capture you and me. They’ll bring in witnesses and you will be charged. We aren’t safe here.”

“But where are we safe?” Marlene pointed out. “You can’t possibly be thinking of running. We won’t be safe no matter where we go. Accidents happen. That’s how I was discovered.”

“I know,” Lily snapped. “I’m not thinking about running. Not now. If Potter is a fair man, then we stand a better chance of survival here. Besides, everyone believes that the last witch was caught, so they think they’re secure. We’re not going to do anything that will jeopardize their sense of security, are we?” She met Marlene’s eyes with hers. Marlene nodded vigorously but she looked hesitant.

“How are we going to go outside without disguising ourselves with magic?” she asked. “We’ll reek of magic.”

“We’ll have to be creative,” Lily said. “I happen to know a woman downstairs who has the most marvelous selection of wigs…” 

Marlene peered at Lily. “You don’t need to disguise yourself, though.”

“If it gets Potter off my back, might as well.”

“Speak for yourself. After all, Potter’s affections for you grant you immunity.” Marlene smirked and Lily smacked her shoulder, not caring that she was still sickly. “What? It’s a good point. No one will harm you while they think you’re his girl.”

“I’m _not_ his girl,” Lily hissed, scowling. “Grow _up,_ Marlene.”

Marlene snickered.

* * *

Lily had not been one to maintain relationships with her neighbors, but Madam Zabini was more of a relationship of convenience. A relationship that came in handy now.

Madam Zabini was more than happy to lend her wigs to Lily — of course, she presented them with the old ones and Lily wasn’t exactly in a position to be picky, so she accepted. There was one blonde wig, which she would wear, and one black wig, which was for Marlene. It smelled faintly of mildew and Lily had to work hard to maintain a neutral expression on her face.

One would think that Madam Zabini was dumping her old trash on them, but Lily didn’t complain.

Marlene mentioned the odor, but she too wasn’t in a place to refuse them. The wigs would be sufficient enough to mask their presence.

Lily tugged on one of the loose strands trailing from the wig, and then made herself stop. She couldn’t seem conscious in this wig, she would need to behave naturally. And it was the perfect time to test how well they worked, because Potter was approaching her.

Lily waited with bated breath — remembering at the last moment to duck her head, lest he recognize her unmistakable eyes — but he just gave her a respectful nod and walked on. A sigh of relief escaped her lips.

One problem, however, was that the townspeople treated her as if she were a newcomer, not recognizing her through the wig. She marveled at the wig’s magic — it was working wonders — but it was frustrating to play along with the townspeople’s beliefs. Still, she wasn’t going to argue, it was the perfect cover.

She even fashioned a new name for herself — Millie Blevins. Millie had a similar personality to Lily, but apparently no one caught on to that. They were very gullible, or the recent burning had lowered their guards.

Lily returned from her experimental outing, breathless and giddy with success. She was carrying a bag filled with free items the vendors had given her. Having another identity was thrilling.

“Marlene,” she said happily, “you won’t _believe_ how well this works.” And Marlene, resting on the couch, bolted up when she saw the heavy bag, full to the brim.

“Circe, I might have to try this,” she said, awestruck.

Marlene went out the next day and Lily went with her, introducing her as her sister Darlene. 

“Darlene?” Marlene whispered, curling her lip. “That’s so obvious.”

But Lily wasn’t paying attention to her because Sheriff Potter and Deputy Black were heading towards them. Marlene groaned quietly and Lily’s stomach flipped, suddenly wishing she weren’t wearing a foul-smelling wig.

“I hear that you’re new here,” James spoke first, his eyes boring into Lily’s, and Lily had the sudden compulsion to cover her face with her hands — he was staring at her bright, distinctively-colored eyes, and it was nerve-wracking. He would recognize her.

Lily held her breath. Marlene’s arm brushed against hers; she was trembling. Lily couldn’t blame her; she had half a mind to tell her to stop.

“We are,” she said, after discreetly nudging Marlene. Marlene coughed and a big, fake smile stretched her lips comically wide. 

“Yes, we just came here from the next town over!” she said in an extremely high-pitched voice that grated on Lily’s ears. “There was a witch there, but we heard this town was safe, so we came here!”

“I’ve heard of that witch,” Black said, narrowing his eyes. “She was killed in the woods, though, so rest assured that she won’t come here. You have nothing to worry about.”

Ah, that explained the lack of security. The witch hunters hadn’t needed to alert the town about the runaway witch because they thought she was dead. Marlene stiffened, apparently connecting the dots too.

“We’re glad to hear that,” Lily said quickly. “Well, we’d better be on our way! I heard there’s a _marvelous_ man selling pastries just around the corner…”

She all but dragged Marlene away, sparing James and Black a mere, brief smile, before she and Marlene rounded the corner and nearly collapsed.

“Morgana and Circe, that was such a close call,” Marlene whispered, her blue eyes wide. “I thought that they were going to catch us.”

Lily ran a hand through her wig, irresistibly reminding her of James. She absently combed through the tangles with her fingers. “We really need to start avoiding them,” she murmured.

“How? They probably have eyes and ears all over the town, and it seems as though you have a penchant for running into them.” Marlene raised her eyebrows and Lily blushed.

“It’s not my fault that Ja — Potter is constantly watching me,” she said defensively. “I already told him to stop.”

“Perhaps he’s just drawn to you, no matter what shape or form you come in,” Marlene suggested slyly and Lily just barely refrained from smacking her arm.

“He did stop though,” she said. “He’s — he’s still a gentleman, but he has stopped pursuing me. I suppose it’s — it’s just a coincidence that we encounter each other so often.” A memory, unbidden, swept through her mind and filled her with warmth — of his hands on her, steadying her, and both of them lost in each other’s eyes — before she pushed it aside and reminded herself why she couldn’t be attracted to him.

Marlene smirked. “Yes, I believe that. You definitely don’t want to see him. The blush on your face indicates your sentiments.”

She was still red? Damn her pale skin. What she wouldn’t have given to have James’s tan skin, or, er, Potter’s tan skin — 

“I don’t mean to spoil my fun, but we look rather suspicious, dawdling around like this,” Marlene continued. “Shall we continue this conversation elsewhere? Say, your — ahem — new apartment?”

Continuing this conversation was the last thing Lily wanted to do.

* * *

_Lily was burning._

_No, not from the fire — not the fire that would kill her. The fire that came from desire, of fingers traveling up her skin, sending her pulse skyrocketing. The fire that burned in her stomach, between her legs. Long, tan fingers, and mischievous hazel eyes peeking up at her. Lily bit back a moan and spread her legs —_

The hell?

Lily woke up, her mouth dry and her sheets wet with sweat and — 

She didn’t want to think about the dampness in her underwear.

But she couldn’t mistake those hazel eyes, and those long, tan fingers. There was only one person she knew who had both of those features, and she flushed.

Heavens above, she’d just dreamed about _him,_ his fingers, driving her mad. They’d been — _breaking in the bed?_

Faint rays of sunlight illuminated her room as Lily slipped out of bed and stumbled into the kitchen. Bending over the bucket (and trying futilely to not recall how she’d been in that position in an entirely different situation just moments ago), she splashed her face with water. It helped a bit to cool her off, but she still couldn’t rid her mind of her _vivid_ dream.

Thank Morgana Marlene wasn’t awake yet, or she’d never hear the end of it. It also gave her some time to reflect (not on the raunchier parts of the dream, but on the dream itself).

This was unsuccessful and Lily simply fell on the table, resting her head on her arms and wishing a hole would open up beneath her and swallow her whole. She’d rather that happen than confronting whatever the hell she’d just dreamed about.

What in the name of Circe was happening to her?

* * *

Lily tossed and turned the next night, afraid of the dream returning, but her eyelids drooped and sleep claimed her.

Not for long, though, and she woke up again and instinctively glanced out the window. The moon sat high in the dark sky, and Lily guessed it was sometime around midnight. Silently, she pulled on a scarf, gloves, and a coat over her nightclothes, and slipped out of the apartment.

Once she was outside, she nodded to the watchman on duty, and continued down the street. Her eyes darted to and fro, wary, but everything seemed quiet. Lily relaxed, content to enjoy the crisp night, when — 

“Lily?”

Lily almost screamed, but the scream lodged in her throat when she saw who it was — James, standing at the mouth of the alley, his figure outlined by the moonlight.

“Oh, it’s just you. You frightened me.” Lily ducked her head out of embarrassment, but James chuckled.

“My apologies.”

They stood in silence for a moment as Lily scrambled for something to say. “What are you doing here?” she blurted out, and immediately regretted her question. He was likely patrolling.

“I’m patrolling,” James said, puffing out his chest, and Lily resisted the urge to smile. “Black was supposed to, but he had some family emergency. Like the generous comrade I am, I offered to take his shift.”

Lily smiled. “How sweet of you.”

“Thanks, it’s a part of my natural charm.” 

“Charm? What charm? You have all the charm of a bull in a china closet.” 

“...Your sharp rebuttal wounds me, Evans.”

“Thanks, it’s a part of my natural charm.” Lily smirked and laughed, relishing the stupefied look on James’s face as he realized he’d been outplayed at his own game. “I have quite a few contenders for my heart. I _am_ a catch.”

He took a step forward so that he was covered by the darkness and closer to her. Lily swallowed, unnerved — she couldn’t see his expression. “Do I know any of these contenders?”

“You might.” Lily hoped the darkness masked her face too, she certainly didn’t want him to glimpse the ruddy color of her face or how interested she was in staring at the ground, suddenly shy in the face of flirtation. “There’s a few.”

“Oh?”

There was just one and he was standing too close for comfort, having taken another step forward.

Lily stepped back. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Oh.” This _oh_ was deflated, flat, and made Lily’s heart slow just a bit — was that disappointment in his voice? She laughed cynically, her next words bursting forth with a surge of frustration.

“Were you hoping it was you? That was what you were thinking, wasn’t it? Well I’ve got news for you, James Potter. You _are_ a contender. The frontrunner, actually, and I hate it. I hate that you are a frontrunner, because you’re the one person I can’t be around. You and me, the idea of it, I just can’t —” She shook her head dazedly, defeatedly. “I can’t do this. This is terrible, despicable, foul, immoral, not to mention utterly _wrong_.”

She didn’t hear his final footstep, but suddenly he was right before her. So close that she could hear his rapid heartbeat, his slow breaths, and it was too much. _It was too much._

She didn’t know if she wanted to kiss him or run away from him. The latter seemed more appealing at the moment.

“Lily.” His voice was quiet and firm. He didn’t touch her, but her name on his lips caressed her, like they were lying in bed together and she had his head on his chest, and he was stroking her hair. “What are you holding back?”

He didn’t ask her _why,_ which was what she would have preferred. As it was, this question struck her like a bolt of lightning to the chest. She didn’t move, biting her lip as she considered the question carefully, searching for an adequate response.

“There are plenty of things you don’t know about me,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t crack. “But you should know one thing — I’m not good for you. I — I can’t tell you why, but that’s what I want you to know.” She gulped. “I’m sorry.”

“What did I do to make you hate me?” he asked sadly and Lily’s heart broke for him. “Tell what’s wrong, and we can fix it. Together.”

The hesitant offer he made her was tantalizing. She could almost taste the feeling of having everything she’d ever wanted. She could fall in love. She could live a life of peace and never have to worry about hiding her identity. She could be protected from the world if she just fell into his arms now.

But this was something that was only a far-reached fantasy. 

“There’s no fixing, James,” she said brokenly. “There’s no _we._ There can never be a _we._ ” 

She wanted to cry. She could hear the sounds of ripping as her heart tore itself to shreds. Until now, she’d never realized the true depth of her feelings for James — but his kindness, his sense of humor, his selflessness, his perseverance, his hero complex — she wanted all of it. She didn’t love him, not yet, but she desperately wanted to know. Her only chance at love — 

Okay, maybe that was a tad dramatic.

— was walking away from her. He was retreating step by step, his tongue oddly still, and Lily closed her eyes, not wanting to see the moment he walked into the moonlight and his face was illuminated. She didn’t want to feel even more agonized than she already was.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her words carrying on the breeze, but she wasn’t sure if he heard them.

* * *

“So, we’ve started day drinking,” said Marlene casually. She stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips. “Not an action befitting a lady but we can make an exception for the brokenhearted.”

Lily didn’t answer.

“Ignoring me? Really mature.” Her friend snorted. “I didn’t peg you as a coward, Evans. First you back out of confessing your feelings to James, and now you won’t talk to me about it. At this rate, you _will_ end up pathetically alone.”

“Wouldn’t make much of a difference,” Lily muttered bitterly.

“Ah, so she can speak,” Marlene drawled. “Pray tell, _now_ will you tell me what happened that put you in such a sorry state? Or should I say _who?_ ”

“You know exactly who put me in this state,” snapped Lily. “You know there’s only one person besides you who could make me feel this sorry.”

“I know, Lils.” For the first time, Marlene used a nickname, indicating how much she was softening. “I’m here to tell you that it was a good decision. It may have been a hard decision, but a good one, because you needed to let him go. You wouldn’t be good for him.”

“That’s what I told him. I’m lucky I didn’t see his face, or I would have changed my mind.”

“I know,” said Marlene, resting a hand on her shoulder and after a brief hesitation, leaned down and hugged Lily from behind. It wasn’t the first time they’d hugged, but somehow it felt like — Marlene’s sympathy washed over Lily and she sagged in her chair.

“Am I being pathetic?” she queried, staring unblinkingly at the table. “I should stop moping around.”

“It’s a natural reaction,” Marlene said. “You can’t have your heart broken and walk away emotionless.”

“You say that as though you’ve had your heart broken before.”

“Every person has a broken heart at least once in their life. It’s like a ritual. You break a heart, yours will be broken too.”

“...Love is unfair,” came the desolate reply. Marlene chuckled.

“All’s fair in love and war, my dear,” she said. “There’s a fine line between them.”

Lily raised her head and looked directly at Marlene. “You still never told who broke your heart.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Marlene released her and sat down daintily in the chair next to Lily. With her straight blonde hair, icy blue eyes, and flawless features, she was the picture of heartbreak. “Sirius Black.”

Lily started. “The deputy?”

“He courted me during our prime years,” she said wistfully, her eyes faraway. “We were both young and foolish. He risked his family’s reputation to be with me but —” her eyes hardened “— their influence was too much for him, and he had to stop seeing me.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Marlene,” Lily said sincerely, for that was all she could muster. “How did you handle it?”

“Same way you are now. Wallowing, drinking, only I didn’t have a fabulous friend to console me.” She winked. It was a blatant attempt to make Lily smile and it worked. “Sometimes all you need is to talk things out with a confidante. Or a friend, if you will.” Now she looked unsure, glancing at Lily for confirmation, but Lily beamed. It was a complete transformation from her downcast expression.

“You’re right,” she said. “It does help to talk things out with a _friend_.”

* * *

James — Potter didn’t go out of his way to see her, which eased the ache. Whenever Lily went out in public, she donned the disguise of Millie Blevins and was unnoticed by everyone. Lily had always disliked the attention, and now that she wasn’t receiving any, she was pleased. 

She and Marlene didn’t bring up the subject of Potter for a week, until Lily woke to the sound of something banging on her door.

Not something — someone.

Lily’s heart stopped in her chest. Marlene was here, so why was someone shouting? Why was something trying to — 

_BANG!_

— break into her apartment?

“Magic!” someone — a male voice roared. “I smell magic coming from this apartment! I’ve sent my wife to fetch the police!”

Marlene appeared in the doorway, looking just as fearful as Lily felt. Her face was pale and she was shivering. 

“What happened?” Lily demanded as terror coursed through her body. “I thought we didn’t use any magic!”

“I, um —” Marlene’s body was violently trembling. “It’s my fault,” she whispered. “I wanted to close the door because it was drafty and I was half-asleep —”

“ _Marlene,_ ” Lily growled, her head pounding with the beat of the banging on the door. “You _idiot,_ you sold —” She broke off as the banging stopped and she heard voices outside. Loud, angry voices that undoubtedly belonged to the police and — 

“Out of our way, sir,” said a nasally voice, and she heard a dog bark. Her blood ran cold. What — what were the bloodhounds doing here?

“That’s a bloodhound,” said the same man who’d been hammering on their door. He sounded nervous. 

“It’s not,” the nasally voice said. “It’s a large dog, yes, but not a bloodhound. We don’t intend to kill our quarry, not right now.”

_Not right now?_ Oh Morgana, she was going to be burned alive.

Marlene pressed against Lily, her face ashen. “What do we do now?”

“In seconds, they’re going to tire of lingering outside and break down the door,” Lily whispered, absurdly calm. “There’s only one way we can make it out alive. We fight.”

“But they —”

Lily cut her off with a fierce glare. “It’s our only chance,” she hissed. “There’s no point in concealing ourselves anymore.”

“Our disguises —”

“No. We can’t hide from them anymore, they know we’re here and those dogs can likely sniff us out. Either we fight, or we die. I’m fighting.” Lily poured every bit of conviction she had into her voice. “Will you?”

Marlene nodded; she looked frightened, but now she masked it with determination. “I’m with you, Lily. I’ll fight to the bitter end.”

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way, witches,” the nasally voice called, interrupting Lily as she opened her mouth to speak. “Either come out and surrender yourselves now, or we’ll come in there ourselves. Trust me, the first option will be less excruciating.”

Lily glanced down at her rumpled nightgown and then at Marlene’s, whose cheeks had regained some color. A wee fire sparked to life in her hand. “Shall we fight fire with fire?”

“Oh, you’ve got a good handle on the fire,” Marlene said, a sly smile growing on her face. “I think they need some...cooling off.” A small fountain of water erupted from her palm and Lily grinned.

“I like the way you think.”

A minute later, Lily cracked open the door, a pleasant smile on her face. “How may we help you, gentlemen?”

There was a man with a blonde ponytail, another man with greasy, slicked back hair, and a third paunchy man watching from behind him. At the greasy man’s feet sat a dog, its hungry eyes fixated on Lily, and she tried not to reveal the icy coldness trickling down her spine. The dog did look like a bloodhound, but if what the man had said was true, he was mostly harmless.

Lily eyed each man carefully as the blonde man responded. “Witch,” he said coolly, “I presume you have chosen to surrender?”

Lily bit back a stinging retort. “Of course,” she purred. “It would be unwise to test your patience.”

“I’m glad to see that you have some common sense,” said the blonde man coldly. “I was informed that you were harboring another witch as well. If she has fled, she will face even harsher consequences.”

“No, I am here.” Marlene appeared next to Lily and opened the door further, so the men had a full, unobstructed view of both women standing side-by-side. Lily’s hand found Marlene’s and she gave it a comforting squeeze. Behind the two witch-hunters, the paunchy man squeaked.

“I would not dare run from you,” Marlene said primly. “In fact —”

The two of them moved in a single, fluid motion. Both of them thrust out their palms; Lily called upon her magic, which had been dormant for too long, and it responded eagerly. A blast of fire barrelled towards the men, who leaped in opposite directions with twin shouts. Lily re-aimed her fire so that it was directed toward the blonde man, while Marlene let out a battle cry and shot two jets of water at the greasy-haired man.

“Seize them!” the blonde man yelled, but neither him nor his companion had banked on the attacks, as they had no way to defend themselves — at least, so she thought, until she saw each of them unclip a pair of iron handcuffs from their belts. That gave her pause.

Iron was deadly to witches — it would not kill them, but it would tamper with their magic and shut it down. In short, if Lily’s skin touched those handcuffs, her magic would be incapacitated and her wrists would burn.

Her fear only increased when she saw them drop the handcuffs on the floor and yank out their belts, which were also made of iron. Waving the belts like whips, they charged towards Lily and Marlene.

Lily had only a second to spare Marlene a grim look, and the men were upon them. 

Lily’s magic was strong, but after having been unused for so long, it was rusty and not at its full potential. During her practice days, it had been at its strongest, but now it was mediocre.

Marlene had used her magic recently so it was stronger than Lily’s, and she was doing a better job at repelling her attacker — the greasy-haired man — and dancing around him with such grace that Lily envied her.  
  


But she didn’t have time to spectate — the blonde man was bringing down his whip, his face twisted with hatred, and she barely dodged in time. Spinning around, she gave him a nice dosage of her flames, peppering his expensive silk shirt with holes, and enraging him further. 

For all the menace he emanated, the blonde man was a terrible fighter — sure, he’d almost gotten her the one time, but the other times his aim was wide, and Lily evaded him with ease. But she’d neglected his ally, and now the man whistled — and the dog came barrelling into the fight, claws swiping, and it was fast.

The man retreated, apparently content to let the dog fight Lily, which Lily found strange and ridiculous, but then seconds later she found out _why_ the dog had been entrusted with battling her — it was vicious, almost as vicious as the bloodhounds, and it tore a chunk out of her nightgown with its pointed teeth.

It made Lily want to fight the man again — at least he made for a clumsier opponent.

She struck the dog once or twice, and the dog reduced her long nightgown to a short dress. Her bare legs were exposed and Lily growled, backing away. It was some satisfaction to see the dog equally as vulnerable, its ears and fur smoking. 

Marlene screamed. Lily whipped around, but there was no need. Footsteps thundered up the stairs and three more people burst onto the scene. 

Oh thank Circe...but she almost wept when she saw who it was.

James stood with a gun at his hip, a commanding presence among the chaos, calm and composed, until his eyes fell on her and he blanched. “ _Lily?”_ he breathed. “There must be some mistake. She can’t be —”

“I have made no mistake, Sheriff Potter,” said the blonde man loftily, deigning to join the battle now after it had ceased. “We received a report about magical activity originating in this apartment — “ 

“No, no, that can’t be right,” James insisted, his gaze still holding her captive. “She isn’t a witch. I know her.” He didn’t mention anything about his feelings towards her, which was good. She didn’t want to drag him into this mess — though, he was currently digging their graves by admitting to his association with her.

The blonde man’s eyes were like steel as he glared at James. “You confess to having a relationship with this... low-born creature?” Lily flinched but otherwise stood her ground, spitting at him.

“She’s no creature,” he retorted, but glanced at her uncertainly, like he wasn’t sure what to do next. He’d shown his cards. Lily’s eyes moved to the two men behind him, Black and Healer Remus. Remus shot her an agonized look, communicating his regret, and Black just stared at her impassively. Perhaps his expression would change if he saw Marlene, who was out of his line of vision.

Marlene, who’d screamed just before the arrival of the three newcomers.

Lily turned so quickly she almost gave herself whiplash (goodness, the irony), and her stomach lurched as she saw that the greasy man was holding her by her hair, the iron manacles around her wrists. Marlene was writhing against his hold, but every movement would cause her pain and she’d eventually collapse. Lily closed her eyes and shuffled aside, just barely, so that Sirius Black would receive a generous view of his former lover.

The sharp intake of breath told her that she’d succeeded.

“Marlene?” he whispered and the blonde man’s head jerked to him, his grey eyes narrowed to slits. 

“Fantastic,” he said, snorting. “Is there any integrity in the police force anymore? Fraternizing with the enemy? Disgraceful. I’m appalled.”

“Unfortunately for you, your opinion means little to us in the police force,” James snapped and Lily didn’t even hide her smile. “Don’t forget your place, Mr. Malfoy.”

Mr. Malfoy’s eyes were now more squinted than narrowed. Obviously, this was a sore subject for him. “Remind me, Potter, who has more influence over the mayor? Your superior, if I recall?”

Curiously, Lily watched James struggle; he was clearly battling between arguing with Mr. Malfoy, and keeping his mouth shut. Lily wasn’t sure which one she wanted him to do — witnessing Mr. Malfoy knocked off of his pedestal would be undeniably gratifying.

“...Just let me handle this, “ James said through gritted teeth.

“But how can I — we trust that this process will be fair?” Mr. Malfoy bared his teeth. “You will be biased against us for this pretty little witch you have taken a liking to.” He pinned her with a scorching glare. “Pathetic.”

Lily raised her hand and his mouth sealed itself. “You would do well to remember your manners, Mr. Malfoy,” she said sweetly, “or has all your hypocrisy and lack of judgement addled your brain?”

Why hadn’t she done that before? She’d been relying on James the whole time, but he was bound by his honor and his duty to the town. She, however, had no such fulfillment. There was not much left for her here, so she had room to be — dare she say it — _reckless_.

But when she looked at James, he looked thunderstruck. He stumbled back, almost running into Remus, and gaped at her. Utter betrayal was on his face. It took Lily a moment to realize what had caused that reaction. He was staring at her uplifted hand with horror.

Oh. She’d all but incriminated herself in front of him. The sweet, sickly scent of magic hung in the air.

The greasy-haired man, who’d not spoken a word, now spoke up in Mr. Malfoy’s stead. “Lift your spell on him, scum.”

Lily hardly heard him. She was trying to catch James’s eyes desperately so she could explain herself to him, clear the air between them, and perhaps delve into something more — but judging from the way James was avoiding her eyes, he didn’t desire for that to happen.

“I said,” the greasy man snarled, “ _release him from your sorcery!”_

Lily snapped out of her trance and reluctantly lifted the spell from Mr. Malfoy. Pity, it had been the best minute of her life. Mr. Malfoy’s lips parted, undoubtedly about to hurl insults at her, when Deputy Black intervened. Seeing that James was in no condition to take control, he was well within his rights to.

“Healer,” he said, addressing Remus first, “tend to the injured witch hunters and if possible,” his lip curled, “the mutt.”

Remus nodded and hurried past Lily, not looking at her, and Lily guessed that he was upset with her too. If she made it through this alive, she would have to apologize to him too.

She had a lot of apologies to make.

Deputy Black’s eyes settled on the paunchy man. “You. Go back to your home. We’ve got this situation under control.”

While he was distracted, Lily would’ve ordinarily used this window of opportunity to fight and possibly escape, but she couldn’t leave Marlene behind, and she couldn’t hurt James and by extension the deputy and the Healer. As much she hated it, she couldn’t hurt the greasy-haired man and Mr. Malfoy either.

Deputy Black’s voice was cold; even without looking at him, she knew the voice belonged to him. “I’ll cuff Miss Evans.” There was a small gasp from James, a hasty round of whispers, and then Black amended, “Not with the iron cuffs.”

“But Deputy,” the greasy-haired man said, “aren’t you afraid that the bitch will use her magic and escape?”

Lily almost lunged for him, her qualms about murdering the man gone, but Deputy Black beat her to it. “She won’t escape. She has nothing left to escape for.” 

The greasy-haired man spat, but unlike Mr. Malfoy, he had no leverage over the deputy. He couldn’t make Black do anything. Scowling, he watched as Black walked over to Lily and unclasped a pair of regular handcuffs from his belt.

“You have nothing to fear from me,” she said as Black knelt. She thrust her wrists ahead without looking directly at him. “I won’t harm anyone…not anymore.”

By letting him put the cuffs on her, Lily was signing away her fate. Her life wasn’t in her hands anymore.

No, her life belonged to the hands of the likes of James and the Chief Executioner.

* * *

Marlene had fallen unconscious by the time they reached the holding cell. Black had changed her cuffs himself, but she hadn’t moved. 

James walked ahead of them as Lily was dragged down the street. The blonde-haired man was charged with escorting (escorting, her ass) her down the street and he had all but grabbed the collar of her dress and forced her to walk, like she was a dog. Neither Potter nor Black ordered him to stop, so Lily staggered down the street with her dress strangling her.

Unlike the other witches, Lily caused no ruckus. The procession was unusually quiet and solemn, not like the public spectacle it had been before. There was no shouting, no cruel taunts flung at her. People would assume it was an ordinary arrest.

James veered away once they arrived at the building where the holding cells were located, presumably to report to the mayor, and he went alone. Black watched emotionlessly as Lily and Marlene were shoved into the cell. Lily landed on her rear with an undignified yelp and Marlene was still unresponsive.

“Stay here,” the greasy-haired man (Greasy, she’d started calling him in her mind) hissed.

“As if I could go anywhere,” she shot back.

Greasy’s lip curled; he seemed to have an affinity for that expression. “Don’t you dare patronize me, bitch. Don’t you _dare_ use your filthy witchcraft on me. These bars are made of iron, especially for you.” He laughed humorlessly. “If you make one move —”

“— I will feel immeasurable agony, equivalent to torture,” she finished, trying to appear bored. “Are you done _patronizing_ me?”

Greasy bared his teeth. “Shut your disgusting mouth.”

“You want to talk about disgusting, sir?” Lily’s eyes flicked meaningfully to his hair. “When was the last time you rinsed your hair, _sir?_ Perhaps your mother was the last to do it for you?”

It was a low, dangerous blow, but Lily was beyond caring; in the last hour, she’d endured worse. Circe, she was _exhausted,_ but Greasy was just begging to be taunted.

Greasy swelled, striding forward, before remembering the bars obstructing his path. If that hadn’t been enough, Black seized his shoulder. “That’s enough,” he ordered. “Leave the prisoners be.” His face was hard, betraying none of his concern for Marlene. He was either putting up a front in order to appease the men, or he really didn’t care for the two witches. He didn’t seem as rattled as James.

His eyes thawed a little as they darted to Marlene. Then he gave everyone a jerky nod and exited the room, the two men tailing him, and the door slammed shut behind them. The moment the echo left her ears, Lily’s knees buckled.

Oh Morgana, what was going to happen to them now?

* * *

Marlene woke up a few minutes later, disoriented, and with the iron cuff marks stark red against her pale skin. Lily quickly tapped her shoulder so she wouldn’t be alarmed by their new surroundings and informed her of their dire situation. Her face went from white to red and back to white in a span of a minute. 

“...so, we’re doomed,” she concluded gravely and Marlene let out a hoarse, mirthless laugh.

“No shit,” she muttered.

“How are your wrists feeling?”

“Like the top layer of my skin has been shaved off.”

“Well, you’re lucky it wasn’t worse,” Lily said. “You were wearing iron handcuffs, but your beloved ex-beloved swapped them out for regular ones.”

“Beloved…” Realization dawned on her face. “You mean…Sirius?”

Lily’s eyebrows rose. She never heard the deputy’s first name before. “If you mean Deputy Black, then yes. He’s the one who changed your bindings.”

“Oh.” Marlene stared at the scarlet marks, her expression unreadable. “I…don’t suppose I’ll get a chance to thank him.”

Lily sighed. “I suppose not. Perhaps when we’re being…” The word _executed_ refused to leave her lips, but it was understood. “Maybe he’ll have a change of heart.”

“But even if he does,” Marlene said, “there is nothing he can do. The power to stop the execution is out of his hands. If James can convince the mayor…but I doubt he’ll make an exception for us.”

“I don’t have much faith in James,” Lily admitted, dismal. “I have no doubt in his abilities to persuade the mayor — I know he will lobby for us — but that will be a far stretch. I don’t think even he has that much power. The only regret I have is,” she paused, “well, two regrets. I regret not being able to protect you, and not apologizing to James. I broke our hearts, I should take responsibility for his.” 

“You did protect me,” Marlene whispered. “You did what you could, you protected me even though I landed us here, and I could never ask for a truer friend. Thank you for everything you have done for me, Lily. I couldn’t possibly ask more of you.” A single tear slipped out of her eye before she could wipe it away. She sniffled. “I wish I could hug you, but these damned handcuffs won’t let me.”

For the second time, Lily fell to pieces and sobbed; she was not as strong as Marlene, and all of her anger and disappointment spilled out. “I-I’m g-glad it’s you I’m f-facing this with,” she spoke through her tears. 

“Oh Lily.” Marlene raised her bound wrists and brushed away the wetness on Lily’s cheeks. She spoke no more, and neither did Lily, because the friendship between them explained everything they needed to convey.

* * *

Lily didn’t know how long they sat in that cell, but she did not sleep. Their cell was windowless, so she had no idea what time it was, but she assumed it was nearly dawn, because she and Marlene had been arrested during the night. She and Marlene spoke in hushed whispers about their lives, sharing stories and memories, and reliving the last twenty-one years of their lives. Lily told her about her deceased family, and in return Marlene told her about her family — how she’d grown up with them, and lamenting over the fact that they were probably dead after she’d been identified as a witch.

All in all, it was the best way to spend their last moments together.

Lily’s pulse increased the moment the door opened and Mr. Malfoy appeared, along with Deputy Black. The deputy was as unemotional as ever, though his guise slipped a bit when he saw Marlene glaring defiantly at him and his companion. For a moment, fear flashed in his eyes, and in that very heartbeat Lily recognized her and her friend’s fate.

They were going to die.

“The mayor has decided your punishment,” Mr. Malfoy said smugly. First he gazed at Marlene, who pointedly looked away, and then in a tension-building moment he shifted his gaze to Lily. He was trying to be intimidating, but Lily wasn’t fazed. She knew what he was going to say.

“Despite some…objection,” Mr. Malfoy said, still piercing her with those frosty grey eyes, “the mayor has decided not to spare you. Your execution is at sunset.”

Heart pounding, Lily lowered her eyes and said steadily, “I see.” Meanwhile, Marlene had her head still turned away, but Lily felt something soaking into her sleeve. A tear. She didn’t want to show weakness in front of Mr. Malfoy, nor did she want to show emotion to Deputy Black.

Oh, brave, bold Marlene…her spirit would be extinguished at sunset.

Clearly this was not the reaction Mr. Malfoy had wanted, judging from the sour expression on his face, but he accepted it nonetheless. “Sunset is in,” he checked his watch, “roughly nine hours. You will not be given sustenance, nor you will be given the chance to say goodbye to your loved ones.” 

Lily lifted her chin. “So be it.”

Malfoy stared at her curiously for a second, before shaking his head, wheeling around, and marching away. He did not wait for Deputy Black, and Black did not follow him. Instead he approached the cell, his eyes melting a little as they landed on Marlene. Lily nudged her and she turned her face. 

Lily thought she saw Black flinch when he saw the tear tracks on Marlene’s cheeks. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I went to the mayor and appealed with James, but he wouldn’t listen to either of us.”

Marlene stared at him blankly.

“Marlene, I —” Now he seemed to be on the verge of tears. “I don’t have much time, but I need to tell you something. I — I love you. I still love you. Even though my parents forced me away from you, I never stopped loving you.” The tough man facade had completely vanished, and Marlene was visibly reeling.

“If you loved me,” Marlene said faintly, and cleared her throat before repeating, “If you loved me, you wouldn’t have left. Your parents made you make a choice. They were overbearing and controlling and while they let you have a childhood, they still strung you along like they were puppeteers and you were their puppet. The Sirius I fell in love with — he was at war with himself. If he really wanted to be with me, he would’ve chosen me. I understand why you chose them, and you still achieved some happiness. I’m happy for you, I am. But I can’t love someone who put me second.” Tears were flowing freely down Marlene’s face, but she spoke clearly and with conviction. “These are the difficult decisions we have to make, and sometimes we choose wrong, even if it might not be clear at first. I don’t regret anything.”

Sirius was desperately fighting back his emotions as Marlene cut his heartstrings, one by one. Finally, he nodded, wordlessly relaying everything he had said and wanted to say. He rubbed his eyes and gazed at Marlene with so much love it made Lily’s heart skip a beat. But Marlene, despite the tears, was looking back at him with such potent sorrow that LIly wondered how he didn’t fall apart right there.

“Goodbye,” said Black, his voice cracking. He faced Lily and dipped his head respectfully. “Thank you for keeping her safe.”

“I did my best,” she responded, dipping her head as well. “But she’s more than capable of protecting herself.”

Black smiled, despite himself, but he didn’t look at Marlene again. Perhaps he couldn’t bear to. Lily didn’t blame him. 

And Sirius Black strode away with a sort of finality that made Lily want to scream.

* * *

Lily _slept._ Through the hunger and the handcuffs biting into her skin, she _slept._ Fitfully, mind you, but sleep was sleep.

Marlene shook her awake. “It’s nearly sunset,” she hissed. She’d wiped the grime and moisture off her face as best as she could and now vigorously rubbed Lily’s. 

“How do you know?” Lily asked around a mouthful of Marlene’s dress.

“Malfoy.” She sat back. “He came by around an hour ago, but you were asleep. I got him to leave — y’know, scare a mutt, and it scurries away with its tail between its legs.” She sounded more or less back to normal, as if she was trying to pretend nothing was happening.

“Are you sure you aren’t mistaking a dog for a mouse? Or a rat might be more fitting.”

Marlene chuckled.

“Did we have any other visitors?” asked Lily idly, hoping against hope — but Marlene would’ve woken her up.

“No, James didn’t come,” Marlene said, gazing at Lily with something like pity. Lily suddenly felt irritated and turned her head away, unwilling to snap at Marlene.

Waiting for someone to fetch them for their execution felt like an eternity. When the door opened again with an ominous creak, she jerked her head, curious to see who was escorting them. Hoping against hope that it was James.

It wasn’t.

_Since when does he get to escort us everywhere?_ Lily thought crossly as Mr. Malfoy strode in, dressed in fine, expensive clothes and smiling at her, much like how a shark would bare its teeth before devouring its prey. 

“It’s time,” said Malfoy, sounding positively delighted. “Come this way, if you will.”

He unlocked the cell and Lily eyed the set of jangling keys, wondering if it was too late to mount an escape by locking Malfoy in the cell, but upon further inspection, she realized the keys were made of iron. Did they make everything with iron?  
  


“Come,” said Malfoy courteously. Lily was instantly suspicious. Why was he the only one? Was this a trap? She glanced at his belt, which held only a knife, and then exchanged a wary glance with Marlene. _Keep your guard._

Then she heard the terrible, terrible noise of roaring, of stamping, of _cheering._ Of boos, of insults, of screams. 

_Oh Morgana…I can’t believe I’m going to be burned._ The realization slammed into her, but she’d accepted her fate long ago. There was nothing she could do.

Malfoy was in charge of riling up the crowd while a few others were directed to tie up Lily and Marlene and tether them to the poles. 

“You see these women?” Malfoy cried dramatically. “They are a shameful taint upon our kind, and they must not be allowed to continue living in our society. They walk this Earth with the sole purpose of destroying what us hardworking, _normal_ folk have created. Do you wish for this to perpetuate?”

Lily wanted to slap him, but seeing as she was tied to a post, she couldn’t do anything. The crowd shrieked its discontent.

“Filthy,” Malfoy said disdainfully. “But these two are a special case. They have used their sorcery to bewitch men into falling in love with them. Two high-ranking, respectable members of our society have fallen under their spell.”

_LIES!_ Lily wanted to scream. _They were being fed lies! I haven’t done anything!_

“What do you have to say for yourselves?” Malfoy now turned them to, his lips curling up into a smirk. “Do you repent? Do you confess to these heinous crimes?”

LIly lifted her chin, speaking to the crowd rather responding to Malfoy. “You are being fed lies!” she declared calmly, confidently, her voice ringing across the abruptly silenced crowd. “No witch can make a man fall in love with her! It simply isn’t possible!”

No sooner than the words left her lips did Malfoy speak. “Are you really going to take the word of a witch?” he said derisively. “How can she be trusted?”

“Because she saved my life!” Marlene cried above the deafening din, and somehow, the crowd quieted again. “Your bloodhounds chased me from Cokesworth to here. They nearly killed me! If Lily hadn’t found me, I would be dead!”

“And rightly so,” Malfoy said, rolling his eyes. “Your kind deserve to die.”

He was overplaying the _vermin_ card, but the crowd didn’t seem to realize it. They began to chant, “Die! Die! Die!” 

Lily’s heart froze in her chest as another memory came back to her, of a time eleven years ago — her parents being burned, the calls to burn them alive, and she had felt so unsafe that she’d fled the town the day after. She’d found a nice family in this town to take care of her for a few years, pleading her “case” to them, selling them the story that she was a runaway orphan. A lot had happened since then, but she’d never thought that she’d be returning full circle.

“But since these two have stolen hearts,” Malfoy continued venomously, “I think it’s only fair that we take theirs in exchange.”

For a moment, his words didn’t register. _Take their hearts?_ And then a horrible, chilling revelation threatened to make her faint. _They were going to take her heart out from her chest._

“How are we going to accomplish this, you might ask? Bring them out,” he said, gesturing to someone on the side who Lily couldn’t see — but the familiar footsteps made her blood run cold. 

James appeared in her line of vision, not looking at her, but she could his red-rimmed eyes, his despondent, broken conscious emerging, even though he walked with grace and authority. He was carrying two — were those guns? 

Everything came together. She was going to be shot in the heart. She would be struck by a bullet to the chest, it would damage some internal organs, and it would be fatal. There was no way to divert the bullet.

“I say we shoot the blonde one first, shall we?” Malfoy asked the crowd, and they voiced their agreement with a cacophony of shouts. Marlene, for the first time, whimpered, but it was lost in the noise. She raised her head. 

“Lily,” she said, her voice trembling, “it was an honor meeting you.”

“Likewise,” Lily choked out. It was all she could muster, as Malfoy took one of the long guns from James and loaded it. 

_At least it will be a quick death,_ she thought. Without realizing it, Malfoy had given them a small mercy. At least she wouldn’t have to witness the flames roasting her from the toes and working its way up to her chest.

Loading the gun was a hassle and it took Malfoy a little help to figure it out. In the meantime, she looked around for Sirius, and saw him standing at the back of the crowd, face down. He couldn’t watch, and Lily envied him.

Malfoy shouted something inaudible to the crowd and they roared. With a triumphant grin, Malfoy spun and aimed the gun at Marlene’s heart.

Lily closed her eyes, but she couldn’t block out — 

_Bang!_

— the gunshot. She heard a sickening _crunch_ as Marlene slumped against the pole, and fought back the hot tears rising to her eyes. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t speak, because Marlene was _dead —_

Marlene couldn’t be dead. She was brave, beautiful, witty Marlene, and she _couldn’t be dead._ Lily dared to crack open an eyelid and screamed. Blood pooled around Marlene’s prone form, a hideous crimson and she couldn’t believe it. 

Marlene was dead, and Lily was next.

This time, however, Malfoy didn’t receive the honor of killing her. James handed the second gun to Greasy. Even from afar, Lily could see his hands shaking. She saw him walk away, and her heart filled with unimaginable pain. _I’m sorry!_ she cried in her head as she strained against her bonds. _Come back!_

But he didn’t, and Greasy pointed the barrel of the gun at her, a wicked smile carving his lips. Lily closed her eyes again. 

This was it. She was going to die.

There was a resounding _bang,_ and Lily waited for the explosion of pain, but nothing came. Instead she heard a _“No!”,_ the sound of rapid footsteps, and something hitting the ground with a painful _thump._

Did he miss? He couldn’t have. Her heart was a large target.

She dared to open her eyes again and everything in her body stilled.

Because James was lying before her, his uniform was stained with blood, and he was emitting a choking, spluttering cry.

_“James!”_ she yelled, and the crowd reacted with deafening protests and indignance, but Lily didn’t care. He was dead, _he was dead, he had intercepted the bullet meant for her —_

Lily was numb to everything. She forgot about everything — her impending death, Marlene, Malfoy, Greasy — and pushed _hard_ against the ropes, screaming James’s name with scalding tears spilling out of her eyes. Her throat closed up; she had to get to James, _he was right there, his life seeping out because of her —_

Something she couldn’t describe overcame her, and suddenly everything was white. There was a sharp _crack,_ and the world was silenced. Nothing spoke. Nothing gaped at the steaming heap of ropes, which she had miraculously broken through. Nothing stopped her as she ran over to James, kneeling next to him, and pressing her hands feverishly to his chest. Her hands were soaked with blood, but she didn’t care.

Even though she pumped her hands against his chest, she knew it was futile, because his heartbeat had stopped forever.

Too occupied with trying to _somehow_ revive him, she didn’t notice the bedraggled figure scramble out from underneath the debris and stagger towards her, holding something gleaming in his hands. The figure had blonde hair, icy grey eyes, and murderous intent, and Lily didn’t see him, didn’t sense him at all.

So when the knife stabbed her from behind and re-emerged from her chest, she hardly noticed, because a part of her had already died.

Died with _him._


End file.
